


Dead Man's Dollar

by space_squirrel



Series: Something Wild [1]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M, Reyes Appreciation Week, Reyes Vidal Appreciation Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2018-11-19 11:33:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11312532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_squirrel/pseuds/space_squirrel
Summary: A cohesive collection of one-shots told from Reyes Vidal's point of view, during the Kadara missions.Written for Reyes Appreciation Week on Tumblr (prompts by VorchaGirl & joufancyhuh)





	1. First Impressions

**Reyes meets Isobella Ryder for the first time, at Kralla's Song: and first impressions are everything.**

**(Written for Day One of Reyes Appreciation Week: “A Sweet Hello")**

 

* * *

 

_"You know who makes a great first impression? Liars." - Daniel Tosh_

 

* * *

 

Reyes Vidal spots the Pathfinder easily from across the room: even if her short stature and long, purple locks were not a dead giveaway, her posture certainly was. To the casual observer she might look comfortable at the bar, blend in, even (as much as the human Pathfinder _can_ blend in on a place like Kadara); but to Reyes’ sharp eye it becomes obvious she’s scanning the room peripherally, alert and ready for anything that might be thrown her way.

She’s momentarily distracted by a heated exchange between Umi and a drunk Krogan, and Reyes decides to take the opportunity to test this observation and approaches quietly, from behind her; and notices her back straightens ever-so-slightly as she _senses_ his presence. A shiver runs down his spine, and he’s instantly intrigued. 

“You look like you’re waiting for someone,” he says, leaning on the bar with as much casual charm as he can muster, flashing his million-dollar smile – first impressions last, after all – and giving her a once-over as she turns to face him. 

Up close, Isobella Ryder is a sight to behold, a pretty little thing with soft features framed by curly hair, her natural black roots fading into a beautiful lavender. He finds himself staring at her full lips, parting as she exhales, her green eyes narrowing as she studies him in return. He thinks she’s not at all what one would expect the Pathfinder to look like: Ryder is all soft curves where most would expect to find hard lines and defined muscles, delicate tattoos of flowers and leaves adorning her body, but then again, she was never _supposed_ to be Pathfinder. 

Catching himself before his stare becomes too obvious, Reyes taps the bar, motioning to Umi to pass over two drinks; he takes one for himself and slides the other over to the woman to his right. She eyes it, and then him, for a second time, before offering him a brilliant smile as she takes the cup. 

His contacts were not wrong when they said she was _casual_ and _unassuming,_ he thinks; but what they failed to mention was how utterly captivating her smile is. 

“I suppose I have time for a drink,” she says, clinking her glass to his and taking a long sip, eyes lighting up as she drinks. “Oh, this is _good_ whisky.” 

Reyes is instantly impressed. He would not have pegged her as a whisky drinker, and he absentmindedly wonders what else she might impress him with, given the chance. 

It almost pains him to have to admit to her what he’s here for; he’d much rather keep drinking, maybe see about taking her to bed, but business is business, and right now, he needs the Pathfinder, not pretty little Isobella. 

Finishing his drink, he sets the glass down on the counter, and extends his hand. “Shena. But you can call me Reyes. I hate the code names.”


	2. The Pleasure of Business

**Reyes reflects on his rise to power, and the lessons he's learned along the way... especially those about mixing business with pleasure.**

**(Written for Day Two of Reyes Appreciation Week on Tumblr, "Business or Pleasure?").**

 

* * *

 

_"Some people choose activities which give them pleasure, while others seek pleasure in every activity they perform." - Sukant Ratnakar_

 

* * *

 

Reyes has never been one to mix business and pleasure: back in the Milky Way, it was almost unheard of in his line of work. Hell, even if he had wanted to mix the two, there was always a complicated web of regulations and red tape ensuring separation between church and state.

But on Kadara, things are different. There is no red tape, no rules, nothing stopping anyone from doing anything, not really, except whatever imaginary moral line you draw for yourself in the desert sand. And as it turns out, in this galaxy, at least, Reyes doesn't have much of a line at all.

His first Angaran friend and confidant, Keema, has some rather different ideas about _appropriate ways to do business_ , and quickly taught him a thing or two about enjoying one's work. “Seek pleasure in everything you do,” she’d once said, “And you’ll never be bored.”

So Reyes followed that advice, taking it to heart - especially when it came to whisky and women... or men, as he often preferred. And, as he discovered, it seemed a number of the unsavoury characters found on Kadara tended to operate the same way, choosing to operate in shades of grey, blurring the line between business and pleasure; and the fastest way to gain power in a world like that was to jump right into it, headfirst. So Reyes had jumped - sharing meals with his friends, drinks with his associates, and his bed with an enemy or two (because really, who didn’t love a good hate fuck?).

His methods were working: his way with words, good looks and charm, combined with his undeniable success as a smuggler (and it was undeniable, he thought, because it’s not arrogance if it’s _true_ ), meant he’d been able to rise rapidly - and secretly - through Kadara’s ranks.

Reyes set up his base of operations just outside the walls of Kadara Port, in a dimly lit, seedy back room of an even seedier bar; where the bartenders don't ask questions, keep the whisky flowing, and turn a blind eye to a lover or two, for the right amount of credits (much to Keema’s chagrin, who still to this day maintains that she meant Reyes should _find work he loves to do,_ not _keep his enemies closest_ ) _._

Zia Cordier had been one such associate-turned-lover, as with very little coaxing on her end, she’d convinced Reyes that while business was business, pleasure could also be pleasure: the two did not have to be mutually exclusive. That affair had ended... poorly, to put it mildly, but he did learn an important lesson in the end. Reyes Vidal does have a line that is not worth crossing when it comes to business after all; and so he swore to never again get involved with anyone he needed something from.

He's managed to stick to those guns, thus far, but the more time he spends working with the Pathfinder, the more he wants to blur that imaginary line, push the envelope to see just how far he can take things, how much _pleasure_ she can give.

Oh sure, their relationship started innocently enough: he’d needed something from her, and she’d needed something from him. It was a mutually beneficial business arrangement, and though Reyes has always been a flirt, using his charm and charisma to his advantage more often than not, he had not expected Ryder to be his battlefield match in that regard. She does not only met him head on, flashing that winning smile, looking up at him through long lashes, standing just a little too close; but she also regularly surprises and surpasses him, brushing against him as she passes and flirting at every opportunity, even unprovoked.

It seems young Isobella Ryder is capable of using her confidence and charm every bit as well as he uses his, and this makes her undeniably attractive– but it also makes her incredibly dangerous.

And so, tonight Reyes finds he is unable to stop himself from flirtatiously explaining what, exactly, _Shena_ means, when Ryder shoots him a coy smile.

“Among other things?” She asks, innocently widening her eyes for what he assumes is dramatic effect.

Reyes chuckles, and takes a moment to rake his eyes over her body appreciatively before looking up at her, lowering his voice as he replies.

"I've never had a complaint, _Bella_."

 

* * *

 

**So, the ending of this drabble turned out to be a Reyes POV on one of the first scenes in my Reyder story I've been working on - I can't wait to get into it after RV Week ends, as Izzy's take on this conversation is _very_ different from Reyes' (spoiler alert: she's a speak-without-thinking, walking ball of embarrassment in her mind; whereas Reyes just sees her comments as flirtatious and charming *heart eyes*)**


	3. Sparks

**Reyes struggles to come to terms with his feelings for the Pathfinder.**

**(Written for Day Three of Reyes Appreciation Week: "Darkest Moments, Brightest Lights")**

 

* * *

 

" _You and me and the dark make light, let's work all day and stay up all night." - Andrew McMahon_

 

* * *

 

Reyes throws his arm over his eyes with a groan as the early morning light begins to filter into his small, sparsely furnished room on Kadara. Blinking, he rolls over and checks the time.

6 A.M.

 _Great,_ he thinks, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed as he sits up, rubbing his strained eyes. He has not been sleeping well the past few nights - or at all, really - and Reyes is exhausted. Running Kadara from the shadows is tiring, to be sure, but that's not what's keeping him up at night.

No, what's haunting his dreams is one petite human Pathfinder, especially after their most recent adventure - the one she’d called a date, and he hadn’t corrected her. She was not entirely wrong, after all, but he had never _intended_ it to be a date when he'd asked her to be his plus one (or at least that's what he tells himself).

But then again, he also hadn’t been able to bring himself to shut her down when she’d asked after his intentions over vidcall, instead promising he’d be a gentleman the entire evening. He could picture that fucking smile of hers perfectly as he recalled their conversation, how she had raised an eyebrow, tilting her head as she quipped back, “What if I don’t want you to be?”

His heart had skipped a beat, and the words were tumbling from his lips before he could think twice. “That can be arranged, Bella.”

Reyes hadn’t planned to take it any farther than a friendly night out, a way to share a drink and a story with an associate, a way to bring her further onto his side before this power struggle over Kadara Port came to a head.

But Izzy had gone and surprised him once more, this time, catching him as he rummaged through Sloane’s things, and, suddenly and soundly pressing her lips to his, teasing him with her tongue and melting into his embrace. He could still feel her lips on his - warm, soft, inviting - and tasting of whisky and cherry chapstick. He’d kept his eyes half open as they kissed, watching the door - because truth be told, that first kiss had been a convenient cover for their presence as foreign footsteps approached.

_A cover._

He shakes his head, groaning as he runs his hands down his face. It had been more than a cover, more than a clever distraction, and he knows this reckless behaviour needs to stop, yesterday. After all, he’d promised himself he would stop mixing business and carnal pleasure after Zia, and his business with the Pathfinder was far from over.

If Reyes had been thinking more clearly that night, had been following his head instead of his heart–

He freezes as the weight of his thoughts washes over him like ice water.

_His heart._

_Was he falling for her, for the Pathfinder?_ He wonders, though deep down, he already knows the answer.

Fuck, if he is being completely honest with himself, he knew this uncomfortable truth long before he’d asked her to call, long before he’d made up a reason to bring her to Sloane’s party, and long before they’d kissed - not once, not twice, but three times that night.

Squeezing his eyes shut in frustration, he flops back on the bed, opening them again and staring at the ceiling fan spinning round and round, his thoughts spinning along with it.

He’d left the Milky Way to be someone, that’s what he had said to her on that rooftop, watching the sunrise, and _fuck,_ he had meant every word.

“You’re someone to me,” she had breathed, turning to face him and looking up at him with those big, green doe eyes of hers, and his chest had tightened painfully as he reached over, cupping her cheek and, against his better judgement, kissing her for the second time that night.

He was the Charlatan, for fuck’s sake, the leader of the Collective. A thief, a smuggler, a murderer. Reyes had come to Andromeda to be somebody, to make something of himself... and he had, but at what cost?

Ryder could never love a man like him, he thinks sadly. She could never love someone who does the things he does, would _continue_ to do, if it meant sparing Kadara from the war he was certain Sloane was waging.

He looks at the clock again. 7 A.M. He needs to get moving, he knows this - he has an early morning meeting with Keema in thirty minutes, scheduled well before the port springs to life, and just after the last of Kadara’s drunks will have called it a night; but he’s dreading seeing her. This will be their first meeting first since Sloane’s party two nights ago, and he knows Keema will give him shit – again – for not telling Ryder who he is, before she finds out from someone else.

Reyes knows Keema is right, knows he is going to inevitably hurt Isobella by not telling her the truth, but he also knows she couldn’t possibly look at him the same way again, once she knows. And fuck, he thinks, if keeping his identity a secret a little bit longer means he can keep her in his life a little longer, keep those beautiful green eyes fixed on him... it’s worth the risk.

_Isn’t it?_


	4. Blinded (When I See You)

**Reyes finds an unexpected - but not unwelcome - visitor on his doorstep.**

**Also, this is the chapter that took the rating from G to E, so don't say I didn't warn you!**

**(Written for Day 4 of Reyes Appriciation Week on Tumblr - Love Me or Leave Me)**

 

* * *

 

_"The only way to get rid of temptation, is to yield to it.” - Oscar Wilde_

 

* * *

 

It’s late in the evening on Kadara as Reyes returns home, dirty and in desperate need of a shower. He sheds his clothes on his way to the bathroom, and steps into the shower, flinching as his bare feet touch the cold tile floor.

He reaches for the knob and twists, lukewarm water suddenly beating down on his body, and closes his eyes, allowing the water to wash the dirt of the day away before reaching for the soap.

The glass walls of the stall are fogging ever-so-slightly, beads of water trickling down the pane, and he wishes he could fade his mind into a similar fog, but his thoughts are racing.

It's been three weeks since Sloane’s party – three _long_ weeks since Ryder has had her boots on the ground on Kadara – not that Reyes is counting.

But if he _was_ counting, it had also been over two weeks since he'd heard from her, and even then her note had been purely business - she’d simply asked after any intel he might have regarding Dr. Nakamoto’s operations on Kadara, and then nothing.

Radio silence.

He tries to tell himself he really shouldn’t be bothered by this, after all, this is what he wanted, a friendly business associate, three drink maximum and all (nevermind the fact he’d already broken that three drink rule with an entire bottle of Mount Milgrom, shared between stolen kisses), but his thoughts keep drifting back to Izzy and her lovely smile, that tinkling laugh, her full lips and her cherry chapstick.

Groaning, he leans his forehead against the wall of the shower, water beating down on his back, and wills himself to think of anything _but_ Isobella-fucking-Ryder right now... _fucking Ryder_ , he thinks, and immediately his brain is sending blood somewhere he really wishes it wouldn’t.

He turns off the water and opens the shower door, reaching for a towel. Reyes quickly rubs his hair dry, and then wraps it around his waist, stepping towards the mirror and examining his reflection.

Humming, he reaches for the razor - he hadn’t shaved this morning, and he can already see a shadow of stubble gracing his features.

There’s a sudden knock at the door, and Reyes freezes, eyes narrowing. No one except his closest confidantes know about his small apartment in Kadara Port, and they never come by unannounced.

 _Especially_ not this late into the evening.

He carefully and quietly moves from the bathroom into the living room, picking up his gun as he creeps towards the door.

Whoever is on the other side knocks a second time, louder and harder, and Reyes moves to the side of the door, back to the wall, clicking the safety off his gun as he leans over and carefully peers through the peephole.

He exhales in relief - he’d recognize those lavender locks anywhere - but his relief is quickly replaced with fear, his heart pounding as he sets down the gun and begins opening his elaborate set of deadbolts.

Reyes has never mentioned his apartment to Izzy, let alone told her the location, and while he knows _she_ is safe, standing here, he fears the worst given her presence on his doorstep at all.

He swings open the door and her eyes widen as she eyes him from head to toe, and he immediately blushes. In his hurry to find out why she is here, he had forgotten he was wearing nothing but a towel.

“Do you always answer the door dressed like that, or am I just lucky?” she asks, raising an eyebrow and flashing that classic Izzy smile.

“Oh, I think you already know you’re special, Bella,” he replies, running a hand through his damp hair. “But how did you know to find me here?”

“Keema,” she answers. “You weren’t at Tartarus last night, or today, and I was worried.”

Reyes smiles, secretly pleased. She _worries_ about him.

“I didn’t know you were on Kadara, or I would have been there,” he says honestly, and she purses her lips.

“My bad.”

Izzy pauses, glancing over his shoulder, into his apartment before looking up at him through long lashes. “So, are you going to invite me in, or do you have some other girl hiding in there?”

He almost shakes his head at the absurdity of her statement, but stops himself, instead giving her a wink as he opens the door wider and motions for her to enter, against his better judgement. It seems he’s being ignoring his brain a lot these days, he thinks, specifically where Ryder is concerned.

She takes three steps in, and looks like she is about to say something, when suddenly her expression changes and she reaches for him, pulling his head towards her and crushing their lips together in a searing kiss.

Reyes knows he should pull away, for a number of reasons, the least of which is the fact he’s in nothing but a towel, just a few feet away from his bed; but he can’t help but kiss her back.

He takes a few steps backwards, pulling Izzy with him, until she's fully entered his apartment, and she smoothly reaches behind her and closes the door without ever breaking contact.

As the door clicks shut, she presses her body flush against his, softly whimpering into his mouth, and that sound is his undoing. He slams her against the door and she gasps, eyes fluttering closed as he moves to press a flurry of kisses along her jaw, sucking at her earlobe before moving his lips to her neck.

Izzy’s hands are roaming the smooth expanse of his back, pressing into his skin, feather light fingers tracing the outline of old scars, dancing lower and lower until they meet the edge of his towel, and, in a flash, her fingers are fumbling at the front, undoing the tucked edge and allowing the towel to drop to the floor with a soft thud. Quick fingers find him already hard, and he gently bites her shoulder as she wraps her hand around his length, giving him a soft squeeze; Reyes is already so lost to her touch he barely even recognizes his own moan.

He tugs at the bottom of her tank top, and Izzy breaks contact just long enough to pull it up and over her head, tossing it aside before crushing her body back against him.

“Please tell me you have more than just a couch in here,” she breathes into his ear, swiping her tongue along the the cartilage, and Reyes can't find his words, instead, letting his actions speak for him as he grabs her ass and lifts her into the air.

She giggles into his ear as she wraps her legs around his waist, grinding down against him, and he instantly regrets not peeling those tight, mesh paneled leggings off her body _before_ picking her up.

“ _Bed_ ,” she demands, nipping at his lower lip, and he happily obliges, crossing the room with a few swift steps and all but throwing her onto the mattress. Izzy manoeuvres herself up the bed, leaning back on her elbows as she shoots him a coy look.

Reyes grabs the waistband of her leggings, tugging them down, and Izzy lifts her hips in the air to give him leverage. He pulls them down and off her body, kissing the inside of her thigh before tossing them aside and moving up the bed, covering her body with his and capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

“Please,” she begs, running her hands down his back to his ass, pulling his hips against hers as she wiggles impatiently.

He pulls away, rolling to lie next to her, propping himself up on his elbow and smirking down at her as she opens her eyes, giving him a confused look.

“Please what?” he asks, and Izzy throws her head back and laughs, pushing herself up until she's sitting.

“Two can play this game, you know,” she says, reaching behind her and undoing the clasp at the back of her blue sports bra, shrugging it off her body and tossing it aside.

Reyes feels his breath hitch and mouth go dry as he looks at her; drinking in the slight sheen of sweat on her skin, her swollen pink lips, soft, smooth skin, and feminine curves.

He swallows hard.

“You're always beautiful, Isobella,” he says, sitting back as she rises to her knees, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him down onto his back. “But seeing you here, like this...” he trails off as she straddles him, dipping her head and feathering kisses along his chest.

“I know,” she says simply, moving lower, and somehow Reyes can't find anything arrogant about her response.

Any further words are lost to him, in this moment: because the things Izzy does next with her mouth have him losing all capability of coherent thought.


	5. We Woke Up Like This

**Reyes may be used to sleeping alone, but he's certainly not complaining about how he woke up this morning.**

**(Written -- very, very belatedly -- for Day Five of Reyes Appreciation Week on Tumblr, "Winter Snow or Summer Heat).**

 

* * *

  

 _“The thing with heat is, no matter how cold you are, no matter how much you need warmth, it always, eventually, becomes too much.”_ _― Victoria Aveyard, Glass Sword_

 

* * *

 

Reyes is wide awake in bed - he has been for awhile, actually, and he knows there are things he needs to go take care of... but he can't bring himself to get up just yet.

Not while the Pathfinder is still lying naked beside him.

But he _does_ need to move, if only to kick this bed sheet off himself. It might only be 0800, but Kadara’s sunrise is already heating the room to uncomfortable levels. He absentmindedly wonders how best to adjust his position without disturbing Ryder; he's sure she could use the rest.

He studies her sleeping figure, taking in her full, pink lips and long, dark lashes. Her hair is messy, _no, that's not the right word_ , he thinks - because messy doesn't even begin to describe the level of bedhead Izzy’s curls have turned into overnight.

_Overnight._

A sobering thought, for Reyes. This is new for him, uncharted territory: he's never brought a lover back to his apartment on Kadara ( _not that he exactly_ brought _her here_ ); and even back in the Milky Way he seldom took anyone home, certainly not since Cal left, and the rare times he did before Cal had been in the picture?

They never lasted until daybreak.

Reyes is a selfish man in many ways, but _especially_ when it comes to his sleeping space.

Yet this morning, he can't find it in himself to be annoyed by Ryder’s lingering presence in his bed. No, Reyes knows he’s in Trouble when it comes to pretty little Izzy; in fact, he actually found it _quite_ pleasant to wake up coiled around her soft curves, one arm draped lazily across her midriff, the sun filtering through the blinds and basking the room in a warm glow.

Sighing, he shifts slightly, tucking his free arm behind his head and rolling onto his back, as Izzy mumbles something incoherent, scooting closer. His other arm is wrapped protectively under and around her, gently stroking her hair as she curls into his side, his chest becoming her pillow as she nuzzles his neck.

Reyes murmurs his approval, and she tilts her head upwards, eyelashes fluttering as she flashes him a sleepy smile.

“Hey there,” she whispers, reaching up and running her fingers down down his face, to his lips; pausing as she gently thumbs at the lower one.

Reyes swallows hard at the gesture - it's simple, affectionate, and almost too much for him to handle. His stomach is flipping and his heart feels like it's in his throat: a terrifying prospect, if he's being honest with himself.

He hasn't felt this way about anyone in a long time, not since Cal, and he’d come to Andromeda to forget about him, to start over, to make something of himself. A long term lover had never been a part of that picture, at least not right away. Certainly not now, not when things on Kadara are such a mess, not when he’s living this double life.

But the more he hangs around Ryder, the more million dollar smiles he’s on the receiving end of, the more he finds his thoughts drifting to the _what ifs_ of the future.

What if _Izzy feels the same way he thinks he might? Oh god, what if she_ doesn’t? _But_ if _she_ does. _.. what if this... this thing they have turns into something more?  Something serious?_ What if _she finds out he is the Charlatan? Or worse,_ what if _she finds out from_ _someone else?_

Reyes glances upwards, rubbing a hand down his face. Now there’s a sobering thought. _But_ what if _he simply... wasn’t the Charlatan? Could he do that? Can he stop, if he wanted to? Could he be just Reyes again?_

“Credit for your thoughts?” Izzy asks, propping herself up on one arm as she studies him. “You look far too serious for what should be a very _good_ morning.” Suddenly, her eyes widen as a look of panic crosses her face and she bolts upright, tugging the bed sheet around her body.

“Oh god. Unless... I mean, I should...” she trails off, looking around frantically before grabbing her previously discarded bra off the floor. “I should uh, I have to go do... stuff,” she finishes lamely, face flushing as she moves to stand, but Reyes catches her by the wrist, pressing a soft kiss to the inky outline of Earth tattooed there as he gazes up at her.

“Don’t,” he says, tugging her back towards the bed. “Stay awhile. Surely Tann can function without Andromeda’s favourite Pathfinder for a few more hours?”

She snorts as she sinks back down to the bed. “I’m pretty sure I’m Andromeda’s _only_ Pathfinder,” she replies, “but I appreciate the thought.”

Ryder pauses, and averts her eyes from his, if only for a moment, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully. When she looks back at him, her expression has changed, he notes, it’s more confident, less Isobella and more Pathfinder ( _God help him, that he's been watching her closely enough he's already learned to tell the difference_ ), but her green eyes betray her worry.

“I do have to get going,” she starts, cocking her head to the side, a look of annoyance flashing across her face, disappearing as quickly as it appeared, and Reyes briefly wonders if SAM had something to say about all this.

“But I, uh, I have a couple hours to spare, maybe, if you... I mean, if you don’t have anywhere to be,” she finishes quickly, fingers playing with a loose sheet thread.

“The only place I have to be is here, Bella,” he says earnestly, “for as long as you want me to be.” Keema can take care of any pressing issues in the meantime, he figures; after all her meddling is the entire reason Ryder is here in the first place.

Not that he’s complaining.

Izzy _beams_ at that, settling back down onto the bed and stretching her arms over her head in a positively sinful way, twisting from side to side as the sheets slide off her body, pooling around her waist.

Reyes drinks her in, admiring the way the warm glow of daylight is hitting her curves, the way her skin is glistening as the room heats.

He reaches for her as she finishes her stretch, a surprised squeak emanating from her lips before he cuts it off with a kiss.

As she melts into him, returning his affections, Reyes can't help but think— _he could get used to this._


	6. You Should Have Known

**Sometimes you keep a secret to protect someone you love, and sometimes you do it to protect yourself.**

**(Written for Day Six of Reyes Appreciation Week: “A White Lie or a Hard Truth")**

* * *

 

_“Lies and secrets, Tessa, they are like a cancer in the soul. They eat away what is good and leave only destruction behind.” ―Cassandra Clare_

 

* * *

 

Footsteps echo through the cave, and Reyes tenses slightly as Sloane appears out of the shadows, strutting into the centre of the cave with the arrogant swagger of someone who has everything to lose.

His eyes narrow, and he briefly wonders how she can be so obtuse, when his breath catches in his throat as three other figures emerge behind her.

“Shit,” he mutters, heart sinking as he recognizes the Pathfinder’s distinctive white-and-blue armour. _Shit shit shit SHIT._

He should have told her.

Reyes is frozen in place as Sloane glances around the cave, one eyebrow arched, hand placed defiantly on her hip. She's confident, cocky, even, as she stands there, a look of boredom mixed with arrogance written across the hard angles of her face. She tilts her chin upwards, eyes scanning the darkness shrouding him.

Ryder stands behind her, softer in stance, though no less authoritative, as she waits for the Collective’s mysterious leader. Waits, unknowingly, for _him_.

He should have _fucking_ told her.

Reyes swallows hard, squashing down each and every feeling flooding through him. He's the Charlatan, for fucks sake, and he needs to start acting like it. He can't worry about Isob— _the Pathfinder_ , he corrects himself—right now. Because right _now_ he needs to focus on doing his job, doing what he came here to do, nevermind who else might be in the dimly lit cave. He steels himself, clenching and unclenching his fist before drawing a deep breath as he steps into the light.

“You look like you're waiting for someone,” he says, eyes flicking from Sloane to Ryder briefly, a look of surprise flashing across her face.

“Reyes?” she breathes, and something in her voice makes him tear his eyes away from Sloane, glancing over at Ryder once more.

He wishes he hadn't.

Izzy Ryder is good at many things, but her poker face is not one of them. Hurt is written all across her pretty features, and he knows then that she _knows_.

She says as much a beat later, pointing out the obvious to an oblivious Sloane—“ _they're one in the same_ ,”—and there's a bitter tinge to her words. Seconds later she confirms his worst fears, calls him a liar, insinuates he's a cheat; in it for the power, and he can't bring himself to disagree.

She knows the score. Knows why he's here - why they're _both_ here. And that’s a sobering thought, Reyes thinks, evaluating why he's _here_. It's something he spent a lot of time thinking about, back in the Milky Way; spent less time worrying about here.

Because in Andromeda, everyone had a role. A purpose. _Survive_.

Survival is something Reyes knows all too well. It's something he knows Ryder understands, too; understands not just survival but survivor's _guilt_ , and for a split second he hesitates, before swallowing his own guilt back down.

The bitter truth of the matter is that Kadara needs a savior; and he's the best they’ve got. Because if Sloane is allowed to continue down this path, if she has her way, a war is about to be waged in Heleus. And when all hell breaks loose? Kadara—and it’s citizens—will be left holding the smoking gun.

And Reyes will be damned if he lets that happen, which is why he knows he needs to stop thinking of Izzy as anything _but_ the Pathfinder. Needs to start thinking of the Pathfinder as an obstacle, his equal in many ways, yes, but still on the opposite side of the coin. Their... _involvement_ , those unresolved feelings and unsaid words lingering between them, stretching across the dimness of the cave needed to be thought of as something to simply something to watch out for, be aware of, as he pushes ahead with his plan.

Ryder is either with him, or she's against him. Reyes swallows heavily as he signals his men to be ready, simultaneously preparing himself for that worst-case-scenario.

He's ordered his men not to touch the Pathfinder; made it explicitly clear that no harm is to come to even one strand of lavender hair on her head, but he also knows the gravity of that order, exactly what it means.

Because if push comes to shove, if Ryder sides with Sloane, if she interferes with this plan...

 _No_. He can't worry about that now, he thinks, silently praying that it won't come to that as he jumps down from his ledge, finally facing Sloane head-on. They circle each other slowly, Reyes’ hand twitching at his side as if he’s about to reach for his gun; the signal his sniper is waiting for.

Reyes can feel Izzy’s eyes on him in that moment—and they are Izzy’s, this time, not the eyes of the Pathfinder, of that he's sure.

He knows the instant she realizes he has a sniper poised and ready to take Sloane out. He sees the slight tilt of her head in the corner of his vision, her eyes narrowing ever-so-slightly at the shadows above them. Sees the look of disappointment flash across her face. Feels the last tiny bit of his heart shatter as it does.

 _This is exactly why you couldn't tell her_ , a small voice sing songs, and he shakes the thought away. He can't think about what this means for them; as a _them_ , not right now - not until Sloane is dead, her thugs stripped of their power. Not until the Collective has control of Kadara.

It all happens so quickly. Ryder’s body tenses, tilting towards Sloane, and for a moment he is certain she’s about to hurl herself at the other woman, push her out of harm's way.

But at the last second she stills, eyes wide; filled with hurt and flickering with emotion. And damn if those big, green does eyes aren't fixated straight on him, boring a hole in his soul as a loud _crack_ reverberates through the room, Sloane’s lifeless body slumping to the ground.

Reyes exhales a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding. She didn't stop him. He wonders what that means, exactly, wonders what it might mean for _them_.

He turns to his men, barks an order. “Get her out of here and prepare the crew. Kadara port is ours tonight.”

Reyes turns to face Ryder as his men depart, searching her face for any hint of what she might be thinking. But she's stoic, refusing to meet him in the eye; and his heart sinks.

Once the cave is empty, save for Ryder and her crew, the tension hanging in the air feels thick, suffocating. So thick Reyes is sure you could slice straight through it with an omni-blade.

Safely out of the prying public eye, Izzy—not the Pathfinder—puffs out a breathe, turning her attention to Peebee and Drack, the latter of which looks like he's prepared to snap Reyes in two, should Izzy give the word.

There's a heavy silence as she studies them for a split second before she speaks, voice level, even. “Give us a minute, hmm?” She phrases it as a question, but there's no doubt in Reyes’ mind it's an order.

Drack growls his disapproval, but knows an order when he hears one, clapping Ryder on the shoulder on his way out. “Just say the word, kid.”

She doesn’t respond, waiting until they’re out of earshot before she looks at Reyes, without really looking at him, eyes averted upwards as she shakes her head in disappointment.

When she finally speaks, her voice is flat. Disappointed, yes, but he can hear the raw hurt behind her words - the same hurt he’s feeling right now, though he’s certain she’d never believe him.

“Guess you got everything you wanted.”

 _Not everything_ , he thinks. Because it’s not _everything_ , not if taking out Sloane means losing the woman in front of him.

He sighs heavily, running a hard through his hair. “What I want is peace. Sloane would have brought war to Heleus. You know that. And we don’t have the population to survive a war. You know _that_ , too.”

She looks at him, really looks at him this time, and his heart clenches painfully as her eyes well with tears. She blinks heavily, looking upward before she speaks, voice cracking with emotion. “Why didn’t you trust me?”

_Why didn’t he trust her?_

The truth of it is he does trust her, more than anyone else. He wishes he had trusted himself, though. Trusted what he now knows they have— _had_.

“I... liked the way you looked at me,” he answers honestly, voice raw. “I was afraid that would change.”

Izzy frowns. “Nothing would have changed, you know.”

He knows that now. _Too little, too late._

“Past tense,” he says, attempting to crack a smile, though inside his heart is falling to pieces.

“Past tense,” she echoes softly, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. “But you’re not the man I thought you were.”

Reyes blinks back his own tears. “I wanted to be.”

They stare at each other for a moment, and the silence is deafening. Reyes finds himself almost wishing Drack would come back and give him shit for hurting Ryder. Hell, he could knock him flat on his ass for all he cares. Anything would be better than _this_.

Izzy looks down. “So what now?” she asks, and just like that, his Bella is gone, replaced with Ryder, the Pathfinder.

All business.

“I get to work. Kadara port won’t take itself.”

She nods curtly, turning to go. She pauses, and for a split second he hopes she’s changing her mind, but she tilts her head in such a way that he knows SAM is buzzing in her ear. He briefly wonders what the AI could possibly have to say in this moment. His curiosity is further peaked as Ryder suddenly glances over her shoulder, as they lock eyes.

In that moment, Izzy slips through, just for a second. She gives him one last long look before turning on her heel and walking away.

Reyes can’t do anything but helplessly watch her retreating form.

_He should have fucking told her._


	7. Leave Like That

**There are moments where you may have a thousand things to say, but also a thousand reasons not to. And then there's the moments where saying nothing? Says _everything._**

**(Written for... oh heck, technically for Day 7 of Reyes Appriciation Week from like, a year ago? HA. Ahem. "Whats If's or What Is")**

 

* * *

 

_"_ _If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change." ―Wayne Dyer_

 

* * *

  
Reyes has a scowl on his face as he enters Tartarus, ignoring Kian’s _hello_ as he storms through the bar, letting the door to his dingy back room slam shut behind him.

It had been three weeks since his showdown with Sloane, since the Collective had taken Kadara. Since things had improved ground side, and immensely.

And now, Ryder was here, on Kadara - had been for _days_ , according to his men; and she hasn't stopped by to see him.

At first, he'd assumed she was tied up with Initiative business, after all, he knows getting a functional outpost on Kadara is a high priority. But when he'd heard she'd been spotted with her crew at Kralla’s Song yesterday—and more than a few drinks in, from the way Keema had described it—his stomach had formed that funny sinking-pit feeling again. Truth be told, it had taken every last ounce of willpower Reyes had to keep himself from storming over there to see for himself.

_She'll come by when she's ready,_ he had told himself; after all, he didn’t want to push things. But the afternoon had turned into the evening, the evening into the wee morning hours - and now, twenty four hours later, here he was, pacing his back room like a caged animal.

She'd always come to Tartarus to drink, he thinks, and instantly that damn voice inside his head is whispering at him: but that was _before._

_Before, before, before._

Frustrated, he picks up a nearby ashtray and hurls it towards the wall, the door to his room swinging open just as it makes contact and shatters into a million pieces.

And of course, of fucking _course_ it’s Izzy standing in the doorway: mouth agape, eyes wide, and Reyes instantly flushes, ashamed.

“I can come back, if now’s a bad time,” she begins, taking a small step backwards, but Reyes waves her off.

“No, no! It's, uh– it's nothing. Please, come in.”

She hesitates for a split second, eyes darting from his to the half empty whisky bottle on the table, but enters anyway, closing the door behind her and standing awkwardly for a few seconds before moving to take a seat on the far end of the couch. She sits facing inward, legs crossed, and Reyes can tell it's a calculated move, like she's guarding her space.

Making it hard for him to sit too close.

He swallows down his shame and moves to sit on the opposite side, taking care to leave a wide berth between them, though his body aches in the absence of her familiar warmth.

“Thought you'd be in the throne room,” she quips, flashing him a small smile, “Tartarus is a little shabby for Kadara’s new leader, don't you think?”

He swallows, hard, and plasters what he hopes is a smile on his own lips. “Come on, Ryder. You know I prefer to rule from the shadows.” He swears a tiny frown flicks across her face as he refers to her as _Ryder_ , and he squashes down the hope bubbling in his chest.

“You _are_ a shady bastard,” she jokes, and he genuinely smiles at the light-hearted tone to her teasing. For a fleeting second, he can almost pretend nothing between them has changed.

Almost.

“Guilty as charged. But at least I'm a handsome one, right?”

Ryder snorts, rolling her eyes, before growing serious. “You don't have to hide anymore, you know. This is your chance to go legitimate.”

He shrugs. “I'm not built for the spotlight. And Keema— well, she's agreed to be my front,” he pauses, wondering how far he wants to push Ryder right now.

Reyes knows the Pathfinder wants an outpost on Kadara, and he's pretty sure she's not here to exchange pleasantries, given how things had gone the last time they were together, so he continues. “There's room for the Initiative on Kadara now, with Sloane gone.” _Room for you,_ he wants to say, but bites his tongue.

She hesitates. “You know I want that, Reyes, but it's not going to be easy. Tann isn't exactly thrilled about putting an outpost on a planet full of exiles.”

He huffs out a breathe. “But it's not really his call, is it? You’re the Pathfinder.”

There's a long pause, and for a brief moment, Reyes worries he’s said the wrong thing.

Ryder sighs out a breath, studying him, and he flushes, feeling not unlike an insect under a microscope in that moment.

“As long as you can promise that no Initiative shuttles will be shot at on the way in,” she says, slowly, “and that none of our people needlessly harmed, I'll start rounding up the volunteers for an outpost.”

“You have my word, Isobella,” he promises, and he means it. “The outpost will have my full protection.”

She tilts her head, as if considering her next words carefully, shifting her weight and half closing the gap between them. Placing a hand on his knee, she gives him a small smile before speaking; though he can tell there’s so much more she’s not saying.

“Thank you, Reyes.”

Slowly, carefully, he places his gloved hand on top of hers and gives a squeeze. To his surprise, she not only doesn’t pull back, but returns it.

They lock eyes, and Reyes licks his lips, heart pounding with nervousness as Izzy— _his_ Izzy, this time, not Ryder, the Pathfinder—stares back at him. He leans forward, inching towards her as her eyes widen, a flash of hesitation crossing her face before she sighs, eyelashes fluttering closed, and leans in.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door, and Izzy jumps up, flustered and red cheeked as Drack’s voice booms through the door.

“You alright in there, kid?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she calls back, avoiding Reyes’ gaze as she takes three steps back, moving to leave. “We’ve got a deal. Contact the crew - we leave for the Nexus in an hour.”

Reyes barely even has time to register what just happened before Ryder is gone, the door shutting behind her with a soft thunk.

He leans back, rubbing his face as his body sinks into the couch; a million different thoughts running through his head.  
  
It seems that despite all the animosity between them, the hurt and betrayal, there is one thing Reyes can now absolutely certain of: he hadn’t lost his Bella completely, not yet.

Reyes smiles to himself, allowing himself to feel the thump-thump of his broken heart as the _what-ifs_ that had been plaguing his thoughts for weeks are slowly, surely replaced with a tentative, hopeful, _what is._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oh haiiii fam! Been a hot minute. I'm not promising I'm back, but I'm also not promising I'm NOT back. See what I did there? Ahem. Anyway, I've got plans for a few more chapters of this, or at least a continuation of the Izzy/Reyes story through to the end of Andromeda-- slowly, but surely, I hope to roll it out... maybe I'll get the next part up sooner than, oh, a year from now. SHRUG.


End file.
